Like father like son
by Psychodahlia
Summary: John and Kyle get to know each other a little better. Drama and arguments ensue.


In all honesty, John probably could've handled the situation better. He came to this conclusion after Kate told him "You could've handled that better." The great thing about being married was that there was always someone who knew what you were doing wrong. If he had had a father, he would've know that the price of a soul mate was the occasional blip of annoyance.

Instead, he was dealing with his father's burgeoning love life. Kyle Reese had let go of his paranoia and distrust of others long enough to strike up a friendship with a cute little blond (John assumed she was cute. For him women were either Kate, his mother, or soldiers. A sixteen year old girl wasn't any of those things and so didn't register) who had been rescued from Skynet. The friendship had soon been replaced by teenage hormones.

Long story short: John had walked in on his teenage dad making out in the supply shed with some girl. Between rage and plain old disgust, he had not been able to stop himself from yelling at them. The girl had run out and Kyle had asserted his independence by yelling back. All the screaming had drawn Kate's attention and all her efforts to calm both males down had been futile. Kyle stormed away and John was left facing his wife and Star.

John Conner, leader of the Resistance, chosen savior of humanity, hard core bad ass, found himself uncomfortable at being glared at his pregnant wife and an eight year old. Granted, his wife was a surgeon and the eight year old was pretty hard core herself, but still. "You know why he can't do that."

"I know. You know. He doesn't know. He just thinks you stormed in and started yelling just as he was reaching second base." Kate snapped.

"I don't have time for this." He brushed past her.

"You're right. You don't have time to drive him away. You should be training him for…" She stopped when Blair appeared at the doorway of the shed. "Is everything alright?"

"No." Blair said bluntly. "Kyle just stole a jeep and an m-4." John stared at her. "The good news is the jeep is almost out of gas. We were gonna tank up but other things got in the way." She shrugged.

"And nobody thought to stop him?" John growled. "A teenager just gets in a jeep and drives off? What kind of security does this base have?" He grabbed a rifle and stormed out of the shed, letting all three females follow him.

"Where are you going?" Kate called after him. "John?"

"I'm gonna get him and bring him back."

Her eyes went wide. "No! John, forget it! You just had heart surgery…"

"That was a month ago. Time for me to get back to normal." He felt around in his pocket –good, his keys were there. "Can't just let the kid drive off, I need him. I rather like existing."

"I agree." Blair said. "Time for our leader to show he's got his mojo."

"Don't encourage him."

The banged up Humvee that was as much a personal vehicle as it was a tactical machine was sitting where it normally was. The camp didn't have a motor pool like a regular Army fort, an old parking lot filled that need. Rumors abounded about what the base had been before it became a Resistance camp. Nobody was sure, but whatever it was, it had had a huge parking lot.

John climbed into the vehicle and was about to start the ignition when Kate stepped closer. "Since I can't stop you, will you at least promise me you'll be careful?"

He smiled as gently as he could. "I swear it." His hand brushed her belly. Another month and… "I wouldn't let you have all the fun of having a baby for the world." He noticed Star was still glaring at him and felt obliged to say something to her too. "I'll bring him back. Promise."

The little girl held up her hand, pinky sticking out. It took him a moment to figure out what she wanted before a vague childhood memory prompted him to wrap his pinky around hers. "Pinky swear." He nodded a good bye to Blair and drove off.

Driving off base wasn't a problem; he was John fucking Conner, leader of the Resistance and last hope of mankind. If he wanted to drive somewhere nobody was going to stop him. No, the problems started when he realized he didn't have a clue where Kyle had gone.

Oh, for the days when every teenager had a cell phone.

Knowing that Kyle couldn't have gotten far in a beat up jeep that was low on gas, Conner did a broad sweep of the surrounding desert, keeping an eye out for tracks. He hadn't been driving long when the sounds of a fight reached his ears. _Shit._

After the destruction of Skynet's headquarters and manufacturing plant there had been a blessed drop in the number of machines sighted. They were still roaming around, but there were fewer of them.

Out in the middle of the desert, miles away from the camp and anywhere else that could be deemed civilization, Kyle Reese had run into what had to be the only T-850 for miles around. The shiny endoskeleton had one arm and it was holding the struggling, gasping teenager by the throat up against the back of the jeep. The m-4 lay useless on the ground where Kyle had dropped it in the fight.

Grumbling various curses, Conner got out of the car and aimed. The shot reflected off the endoskeleton, letting the thing know it wasn't alone. The head turned and he met those too familiar red orbs. Apparently it decided he was the bigger fish to catch because it let Kyle fall and came after him.

Later, Conner would remember that fight as one of the easier ones. The robot didn't have any weapons and only one arm. It was damaged and his rifle and the knife he kept in his right boot came in handy. It wasn't a piece of cake, but in the end he survived.

Survived to face an even bigger problem. Kyle picked up his weapon and refused to meet his rescuer's eyes. "I had it under control."

"Get in the jeep. You follow me back to the camp and then…"

"Can't. It's broke."

Remembering Blair's earlier words, Conner shook his head. "No, you're just out of gas."

"No, it's broke." Kyle lifted the creaky hood up and a puff of black smoke escaped. "It wasn't out of gas yet."

"Fine. Get in the Humvee." He stomped back to his own vehicle, but turned around to see the kid still standing there. "Get. Moving."

"No. I'm not going back with you." The words and the tone were defiant but the look on Kyle's face showed how uncomfortable he was with the fight.

"Listen to me, you are getting into that Hummer and…hey!" Conner yelled. "Don't you walk away from me!" _I hate role reversals_. He ran after the retreating figure and grabbed his shoulder, whirling him around. "I said, don't you walk away from me!"

Kyle deflected his hand and on instinct Conner's other hand shoot out. He barely had enough time to unclench his fist and turn what would have been a punch into a slap. _Shit._ "Get in the Humvee."

"Fuck you!" The teenager yelled. "Fuck you, you think that because you're John Conner that I'm gonna do whatever you say." He was on the verge of tears but was desperately trying to hold them back. "You were supposed to be our hope! You were supposed to save the future! But you…" He swallowed and caught his breath. "You couldn't even save yourself. Marcus had to do it."

"Kid, believe me I am sorry that Marcus is dead. I am sorry that I misjudged him and I am sorry you got caught up in all of this. But we're not talking about this here. Now for the last time: get in the Hummer."

"For the last time: fuck you."

Conner's hand snaked out again and grabbed a fistful of jacket. Kyle responded by raising his m-4. "You really want to point that thing at me? You ready to pull the trigger?"

For some reason this seemed to hit a nerve. After a moment of looking nervous he lowered the weapon. "You can't tell me what to do."

"I'm your commanding officer. And in about ten seconds I'm gonna act in loco parentis and turn your ass to meatloaf if it's not sitting in that vehicle." He scowled. "One. Two. Three." When he hit number five he turned and dragged the teenager over to the Hummer and threw him in.

"You said I had ten seconds!"

"I lied." Conner started the engine.

"You can't lie!"

"Well you can't steal." He glanced at the rifle. "Or run away. How're you gonna explain that to Star?"

Kyle slumped down in the seat and looked away. "She's better off with you guys. You can protect her. Kate's practically adopted her anyway."

"But you're better off wandering alone in the desert?"

"I missed eating coyote." He deadpanned. "I'm sixteen years old. I'm an adult. I can…" He stopped and glared.

It took John a minute to stop laughing. "I'm sorry. I find it hilarious that a sixteen year old who had a tantrum and ran away calls himself an adult."

"I find it funny that someone who calls himself my commanding officer cares about my sex life and slaps me."

"You earned that slap. You all but asked for it."

"You're not my dad. You can't hit me and yell at me for sleeping with someone."

_If only you knew._ "You hadn't gotten that far yet. And believe me when I say it's better if you don't."

"Yeah? Why?"

Conner shook his head. "You're too young."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"No."

Kyle rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and slumped further down in the seat. "How can you save the world if you're worrying this much about my sex life?" It was a rhetorical question but John decided it deserved an answer anyway.

"Like I said, you hadn't gotten that far yet. You don't have a sex life."

They drove on in silence, the only sounds being the howl of the desert wind and the growling of the engine. Soon, the growling turned to sputtering, which turned to hissing, then a weak whine, and finally silence.

"Are we out of gas?" The attitude was enough to make John grit his teeth.

"No. I wasn't dumb enough to take a near empty vehicle." He growled, getting out. "Help me lift the hood." Kyle obeyed and the two men took a look at the engine.

"But you were dumb enough to forget to check the battery." Kyle glared. "Now what do we do?"

"You can drop the attitude and get me the toolbox. It's under the back passenger's seat." While he was waiting, he checked the oil level and engine.

"Conner?" The kid sounded frightened. "Company."

Conner looked from behind the hood and swore. There was no mistaking the rolling black figures on two wheels. The hum reminded him of the motorcycle gangs that used to hang out around the places his foster parents never let him go to because they were too dangerous. He didn't have time to savor the irony, that thing was coming towards them fast.

"How good are your reflexes?"

The machines were built for speed, not strength. Catching them was hard but they were among the easier robots to destroy. You had to be clever and quick, two John and Kyle excelled it.

Kyle hid in the Humvee and when the robot zoomed by he kicked the door out. The thing banged into it, taking the door off and skidded past the vehicle, kicking up a cloud of dust. Within seconds, John scrambled out from underneath, his rifle locked and loaded. Kyle grabbed his weapon and rolled out of the Hummer and father and son released a little pent up frustration on a robot.

When the glowing red eyes faded out, John leaned against the Hummer. This was his first real exercise in a month and his heart was going a mile a minute.

"You okay?" Kyle still sounded worried.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"It would suck if you dropped dead after Marcus went through all the trouble of donating his heart."

John inhaled. "The attitude is old. Marcus knew what he was doing." He walked over to door-less passenger side and inspected the damage. He would have to replace his favorite Hummer.

"Just because he knew what he was doing doesn't make it better." There was a catch in Kyle's voice that made John look over at him. "He was…" he wiped his eyes. "He was cool. He taught me stuff."

"What did he teach you?"

"How to drive. Sort of."

"Sort of? You stole a jeep you didn't know how to drive?"

"I can drive! I just haven't had a lot of practice." Kyle crawled back into the passenger's seat. "Can we go now?"

"Now you want to go back." John climbed in beside him and slammed the door. "I've saved your life more than once; why are you mad at me? I didn't kill Marcus, I didn't ask him for his heart." When there was no answer he reached over and punched Kyle's arm. "I'm not trying to be a jerk here."

"Really? What happens when you do try?"

"Things explode. Why are you upset with me? It can't just be because I stopped you from impregnating another sixteen year old."

"Why would I be upset about your interference with my personal life? I thought you were gonna turn everything back to normal. Instead you went on a crusade for abstinence."

"You think I can turn the world back to normal?" John shook his head. "There's not some button I can push to make everything better. It's a lot more complicated than that."

"It shouldn't be. The machines should be gone, Marcus should be alive and we should all be living in the suburbs."

He shrugged. "I won't argue. But wishing for all that doesn't make it happen. And neither does running away." Kyle mumbled something. "Speak up."

"I said, I'm sorry."

John nodded and turned the key. Then he remembered why they had stopped in the first place.

It was dark when they finally reached the camp, the walk had taken a lot out of them; between the heat and John's heart they couldn't move very fast.

Kate was waiting for them when they got back. She ran up to her husband and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him and holding him close. He noticed Kyle looking away awkwardly and couldn't stop himself from smirking. _Payback._

Kate wiped her eyes and looked from one to the other. "You both look half dead. What hap…don't tell me. I don't think I want to hear what happened." She shook her head and ushered them over to the tent she and John shared. "Move it. I'm sure you two aren't done fighting yet, but you don't need to do it out here."

The tent wasn't exactly a bastion of privacy, but it was as close as they could get. Privacy was now defined as: somewhere people can't stare at you. In the tent they were at least hidden from curious looks. Both slumped down and Kate handed them each a MRE. "Eat."

Before they could tear open the gray packages of dried food, Star appeared. She ran over to Kyle and wrapped him in a fierce hug. John couldn't help but smile. That smile grew wider when the little girl suddenly pushed away and batted his arm.

He knew that little girl was hard core. John opened his MRE and began eating and watching Kyle frantically sign apologies and explanations. He didn't have a clue what the hand motions meant but he could from the pleading look on the boy's face that he was desperate for Star to forgive him. It was cute, something the soldier wasn't used to.

Eventually Kyle managed to calm the girl down and she followed Kate out of the tent, leaving the two of them alone.

It was just another in a series of awkward moments. Thankfully, the teenager broke the silence. "You're mad a me."

"Yeah. You did steal a jeep and a rifle. That doesn't go away just because you said you're sorry."

"So what now?" That was a good question. Dragging an angry teenager out of the desert was a lot different than discipline. He was used to yelling at soldiers, not teenagers.

Especially not a teenager who was his dad. _Can't get away from that._ "Now…I tell you you'll be cleaning every rifle in the supply shed." He took a bite of his meatloaf and waited for a response.

"Every rifle?" Kyle gaped. "There's like a thousand in there!"

"Four hundred and sixty-two exactly. I want them spotless. They fire better when they're clean. Don't give me that look, I lost my favorite Hummer because of you."

"Fine, I'll do it." The look on his face was almost a pout and that made John roll his eyes. "But I want to know why you don't want me to have sex. And don't say it's because I'm too young. We both know that's crap."

"Fine, I won't. It's because you'll set a bad example for Star."

"The only reason she found out about it is because all the racket you made!"

John rolled his eyes again. He was pretty sure he was never this whiney when he was a teenager. "It's a long story. I'll tell you while you clean the rifles."

An hour and a half of cleaning rifles and four hours of listening to recordings of Sarah Conner's voice left both men too emotionally exhausted to do anything but sit and stare at the tape player.

"This is so fucked up." Kyle whispered. "I don't believe it."

"If I ever find my birth certificate, your name's on it." John leaned back in his chair. "I wasn't going to tell you, but I also don't want a half-sibling running around."

"What if I say no? What if I refuse to go back in time?"

"Then my mother never gets pregnant and I'm never born. Simple as that." A pause. "I'm not going to force you to go, if that's your question."

"That's what you're doing. I can't have a girlfriend because I have to knock up your mom."

They argued like that for another half hour before Kate came and dragged them both back to the tent and told them to go to bed.

Predictably, there was a fight. "I'm sixteen, you are not my parents, if anything…"

"Enough!" John yelled loudly enough to make everyone else jump. "Enough!" He glowered at Kyle. "I understand what you're going through, believe me." He put both hands on the angry teenager and tried to lower his voice. "We will work this out. We will talk about it until we run out of breath. But right now, you are going to do what we tell you because I'm sick of your attitude and want to sleep."

Ten minutes later, John and Kate were lying on the old, second-hand mattress they had found somewhere. He was just about to drift off when she leaned over (no easy feat for a pregnant woman) and kissed his cheek. "You handled that very well."

"I've decided I don't like teenagers." He gently poked her belly. "You hear that, Kid? You can turn twelve but no older."

"I hate to disappoint you but it doesn't work that way. But the good news is we have more than thirteen years to prepare for it."

He smiled. "That means I don't have to worry about it now."

Separated by a piece of tarp, Star and Kyle had a similar but silent conversation.

'Don't leave me.' She signed. 'I'd miss you. And I like it here.'

'I'm sorry.' He tucked the blankets around her; the desert at night was cold. 'I was mad. I'm still mad.'

'Stop being mad. They're nice. They care about us.' She poked his arm. 'If he didn't care he wouldn't have gone after you.'

He decided the truth was a bit too much for her to handle and he didn't want to start an argument anyway. 'If you say so. I'll trust your judgment.'

That brought a smile to her face. 'Good.' He laughed and gave her a brotherly kiss on the head before kicking off his shoes and flopping down on the cot on the other side of the tent.

Fin.

Author's notes: This was hard to write for some reason and I'm not sure I'm happy with it. It's not terrible but it's not great either. But it is finally finished and I hope you enjoyed it.

Dear Anton Yelchin,

Stop being adorable. You're bringing out my inner fangirl and I thought I killed that bitch off years ago.

Thanks,

Me

Terminator 4 wasn't so great. The ending was a disappointment. Apparently Christian Bale nixed the original idea of John Conner dieing and Marcus Wright stealing his face and taking up the role of Mankind's Savior. Another reason to hate Christian Bale.

But Sam Worthington and Anton Yelchin were awesome. And the fight scenes were good. I like violence. Remember: if violence isn't solving your problems then you aren't using enough of it.

Oh yeah, has anyone here ever cleaned a rifle that's been fired? I have. They can be a bitch to clean, especially if you don't have the cleaning materials and they haven't been cleaned in a month and they got dirt or sand or something in 'em.

Sgt.: Alright people, we need to get these weapons cleaned!

Me: What can we clean them with?

Sgt.: You each get one pipe cleaner and a scrap of toilet paper. We don't have anything else.

Old Sgt.: In my day we didn't even get the pipe cleaner! We got a scrap of toilet paper and we said 'Thank you, Sir. May I have another?'

Me: Supplies sure were tough during the Civil War, huh Sgt?

Old Sgt.: That they were. Waitasecond…

Unit Douche: Sgt, I'm gonna go to the Post Exchange and buy the unit some supplies. I'm spending my own money and taking one for the team. Teamwork! You guys are my battle buddies! Teamwork!

He leaves and comes back four hours later, when all the weapons are cleaned and we're just hanging around waiting for the higher ups to let us loose.

Unit Douche: Oh noes, I got lost on my way to the PX. Sorry guys.

All snark aside, I did enjoy my time in the Reserves. But the idea of cleaning 462 rifles sends shivers up my spine. John Conner is not a man to piss off.


End file.
